Salmonean Love Song 1
by not dragon
Summary: Salmoneus, an Immortal, Hercules, Iolaus and Ares mortal ... with fight scenes ... laughter
1. Chapter 1

disclaimer: All things Hercules/Xena belong to Bob Tapert, Renaissance Pix, MCA et al. dragon is just having a little fun and intends no copyright infringement. non profit, strictly for entertainment value.

time: A very long time ago when the gods were annoying

place: here, there, Piraeus

spoilers: I don't remember. dragon searches sieve she uses for memory storage if you haven't seen season's one and two, maybe.

synopsis: Salmoneus finds a mysterious woman, falls in love, Hercules and Iolaus discover assassins aren't always nasty and Ares discovers university life can be - uh - annoying.

Breland Hall is the Humanities home building on the NMSU campus and is being borrowed with little or no regard for reality. g

all typos and errors are the property of the writer. if i had a beta reader, would this see the light of day? comments gratefully received. flames will be doused.

Salmonean Love Song 1

It was a fine, crisp fall day as Salmoneus walked down a little used path toward the next town. He was mulling over all the schemes he had tried to get a little forward in life, to set by a nest egg for his later years, to become rich and famous in as short a time as possible. So far, none of them had been as successful as he wanted. Gambling was unreliable, real estate had not panned out as he had hoped, nor had his toga sales. The world just didn't seem to be ready to wander about in yards and yards of beautiful cloth. He had to admit, that the thing wasn't really all that comfortable and seemed better suited to a life of leisure than one where a person had to work for a living. Even he had eventually given up on the garment in favor of a more versatile and easier to get untangled from robe.

Still, there had to be something. Something that wouldn't turn out to be cursed by a goddess, or immured in the ground, which was apt to cave in; something - A groan interrupted his thought processes. He stopped and listened. Something was moving in the brush just up the hill from him. Great. On top of not having a single profitable idea, he was about to encounter something uncomfortable.

"Hello," he called out, hoping it was just a passing rabbit, or something equally harmless. The underbrush rustled again. "Uh - look, I'm just passing through the area on my way to - " Where was he headed? For the moment he couldn't think of anything but Thrace and that was back the way he had come. "I'm friends with Hercules," he announced. "And he's not happy when people pick on me."

A slender, very dirty hand wrapped itself around a tree trunk about 10 feet away from him. The owner applied some force and came to her feet behind the tree. She oriented on his voice and finally looked around the trunk at Salmoneus. Eyes like the sea after a storm blinked at him in a dirty pale face. A smear of blood traced from temple to jaw line. She frowned at him as though trying to find something familiar in his face as she stepped out from behind the tree.

The ground sloped toward him, loose gravel proved treacherous underfoot and she managed a standing slide down into his arms. Instinctively Salmoneus caught her, realized he was holding a naked lady and gently moved back to arm's length, while helping her retain her balance.

She blinked at him and frowned again. Freeing one arm from his grasp she gently traced the line of what he considered his distinguished beard with a gentle finger. "Who?"

"Salmoneus."

"Salmoneus," she repeated, her accent strange but not unpleasing to the ear.

"And you are?" He felt a fool responding like this, but her unclad condition didn't seem to bother her and he didn't feel it was his place to mention it.

She frowned in thought then met his gaze. "I don't know." She shivered as a breeze sprang up around them.

"Here." He swiftly took off his over tunic and wrapped it around her. It would need washing, but she needed it more than he did.

She fingered the fabric as though she'd never felt it before. Maybe she hadn't. Though given the apparent head wound she'd suffered and her inability to come up with a name, he suspected she was suffering from amnesia and only temporarily didn't remember what that sort of fabric felt like. The head wound coupled with her state of undress made him suddenly uneasy. He hadn't heard about any bandits in the area when he was passing through the last town, but that didn't mean there weren't any. He took a swift look around. When he came back to her, she was looking at him curiously. "Maybe we should keep moving."

"All right," she agreed.

They walked in silence for a few minutes. "Salmoneus."

"Yes?"

"What is a Hercules?"

"What?" He focused his attention on her.

"You said Hercules was your friend."

"He's a who, not a what," Salmoneus corrected gently.

"Oh. OK. Who's Hercules?"

"You really don't know?" She really did have amnesia if she didn't know who Herculese was.

"I don't seem to know a great deal," she pointed out irritably with a sharp turn of her head. She seemed about to lose her balance, a look of pain crossing her face.

"It's all right. You don't look too good. There's a town close to the other side of this woods. We can stop there. Maybe someone there knows you." This was not as happy a thought as it could have been. True, he was really just offering his help to the woman, but she was wearing his tunic and looking battered and if she was one of the town's daughters, it looked nowhere near as good as it could have. He realized that his thoughts were defensively jumbled. He hadn't done anything. Still, he was nervous as they walked out of the woods and into the late afternoon sun.

She stopped to look at the view. That was encouraging. He watched her face. No, it wasn't encouraging. She was admiring the view, which was quite lovely, but not as someone who had seen it before. She looked at him and smiled. Even through the dirt she was beautiful. She looked on past him to the village nestled in the valley not far from them.

"Is that the town?" she asked.

"Yes. You really don't remember anything, do you?"

"No. Well, I remember that you're Salmoneus and that you have a friend named Hercules. And that the path we've been on runs southwest, to judge by the sun. And that you're very kind to someone you don't know," she clarified with a smile.

He didn't quite know how to respond to this, so he set off toward the town again. He wasn't certain if his luck was in or out when no one seemed to recognize the woman with him. She garnered some interest, but most of it was male and not the sort that said she was related to someone.

He left her outside the tavern while he made inquiries as to rooms and the availability of bathing facilities, if any. Having obtained the information he wanted, he was just leaving the tavern when a body came flying past the door. Was Hercules in town and he hadn't noticed? He took a cautious look outside. His rescuee was objecting to the attentions of a trio of local bad boys. What looked like a no longer combatant Number 4 was lying in a pile of manure oblivious to the continuing fight. Numbers 2 and 3 discovered just how hard the walls of the tavern were as Salmoneus stared dumbfounded. Number 1 pulled a nasty looking knife. His rescuee altered her stance slightly. Her attitude was not one of fear. Not that her opponent seemed concerned about her readiness to do battle.

The combatants circled each other for a long minute before he made his move. Her moves were a blur that left her holding the knife and the man in a grip that left his throat exposed to the blade. Something in the odd blankness in her eyes brought a sound of protest from Salmoneus.

The knife stopped, a bead of blood reddening its tip where it touched the man's skin. She was going to cut his throat. The response looked automatic. She looked at Salmoneus curiously, then down into the face of the man she held. The inhumanly untouched look softened. She released her attacker into the dirt of the street and moved to meet Salmoneus. The man she had left behind her was no longer of any concern. The knife vanished into the folds of the tunic.

"I found a bath," he found himself saying inanely. Why did every beautiful woman he ran into these days have to be a warrior?

"A bath."

"For getting clean?"

She looked at her hands and arms, then at him. "More dirt than skin," she murmured. "Lead on."

The bath was a wooden tub filled with hot water at Salmoneus' insistence. Cold baths gave him the shudders just thinking about them. With that fascinating lack of self-consciousness, she dropped the tunic and stepped into the bath, lowering herself into the heated water with practiced ease. He retrieved his tunic. The knife hit the floor with a clang. Salmoneus swept it up with a swift look around. The woman was submerged in the water. She slowly pulled her head back out a moment later with a lazy smile curving her lips. She rinsed dirt off her face and body, working at the worst places with experienced fingers.

"What do you use to clean hair?" she asked, breaking the silence.

"Here." He handed her a cup with something fragrant in the bottom of it.

She sniffed the fragrance, then dipped a finger in and explored the feel of the liquid. It made bubbles. She washed her hair. Whatever the stuff was, her hair felt clean and silky when she was finished. Salmoneus held a thick length of fabric for her as she emerged from her bath. He tried not to notice how translucent her pale skin was, how her body curved from breast to hip, how long her legs were or how scarred most of her back was. The scars disturbed him. One on her side looked relatively new, although healed.

"We probably ought to get someone to look at that head wound."

"What?"

"The sore place on your head."

She reached up to touch where it was sore. "I think it's OK."

"But you can't remember anything."

She smiled at him in a manner that tried to turn his bones to putty. "I'm not worried about it."

"You're not?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because I can protect myself, which means that whoever inflicted this damage is probably much worse off. Because I am not uncomfortable without the knowledge. And because I'm with you. For now."

"For now?"

"Well, until you have to go."

"Tomorrow."

"So soon?"

"Well - I - You could come with me." What was he saying? He had no idea who she was. He knew she was dangerous, the louts in the street had proved that. He had seen the death of the man in her face until he had objected. Well, that argued she could be reasonable. But for how long?

He had been concentrating on his thoughts which were suddenly disturbed by her standing right in front of him wrapped only in a length of fabric which was wet and doing very little to conceal what he'd already seen. He tore his gaze away from the enticing view, spoke to himself sternly in the privacy of his own mind and made the mistake of looking into a pair of warm, grey-blue eyes. He could lose himself in those eyes so easily. He looked away.

"Clothes. You need clothes," he burbled, yanking his mind back to the problems at hand.

"This won't do?" She gestured to the length she was using to get dry.

"Uh - no. I'll be back. I'll bring food."

Like a scared rabbit he bolted from the room. She watched him go wondering what she was doing that kept scaring him. She could sense his attraction to her. She liked the look that came into his eyes when he watched her. She ran her fingers through her shoulder length deep red hair and wondered what she was doing wrong. The man, Salmoneus, she reminded herself, was nearly middle aged from his looks; his beard still dark but his head hair graying out. He was a little plump, but obviously in good shape considering the walk through the woods and into the town. His smile lit his eyes and that appealed to her. And he was thoughtful. He had been more concerned with her health than her nakedness when they met. The quartet in front of the tavern would have had no such concerns.

She thought about that encounter, flexing her hands and stretching thoughtfully. She had reacted with no thought at all to what she had seen as an attack. She was gong to cut the throat of the one she held when Salmoneus protested. A dead enemy was one about which she did not have to worry in the future. Yet Salmoneus' obvious distress stopped her hand. The man she held was a fool, not an enemy. The knife had felt right in her hand. She looked around for it and smiled as she realized that Salmoneus had removed it. He was oddly gentle for someone who spent a lot of time out and about the countryside.

For a fraction of a moment she saw another face, strong yet gentle. Blinding pain behind her eyes shattered the image. She was on her knees holding her head as though she feared it would explode when Salmoneus came back burbling with her new clothes. He dropped the clothing as he hurried to help her.

"What's wrong?" He stopped short of touching her, fearing it would cause more pain.

She took a long shuddering breath and reached out for him. He folded her in his arms as he helped her up. Tears streaked her face and her breath came in ragged gasps. She shook her head against him wordlessly as the pain eased. "A face," she whispered into his shoulder. "A memory and then - "

"It's all right," he muttered senselessly to the back of her head as he held her and stroked the silken hair. "Don't try to remember. Not now. Let yourself heal for a while."

"Take me with you. Please."

He looked into her still tear filled eyes and could not deny her. He nodded his assent. She took another long shuddery breath and leaned into him, holding on as though he was the solid center of her world. He looked around the room for a moment as though trying to find some reason in all this. He settled for being held by and holding onto the woman in his arms. He had to admit, that even if he wasn't the most dependable world center in the universe, it felt good. And it felt right.

Salmoneus awoke to a balmy morning and a sense that he was alone. He looked around to the bed where his - his what? His mind boggled as he tried to figure out what to call the woman he had rescued. His rescuee? Sounded idiotic and he couldn't keep calling her that, anyway. Of course, since she wasn't there, maybe it wasn't a problem.

The door to the room opened and she came in. A warm smile lit his face as he saw her. He just couldn't help smiling at her. She smiled back. Suddenly he was very warm. She held a basket in her arms.

"I got breakfast. Of course, I'm not exactly certain what you like so you can go augment it if you like." She set the basket down. There was a choice of fresh, ripe fruit, bread and some cheese. It smelled good since the bread was still warm.

"It looks wonderful. You didn't have to -"

"I know. But I wanted to look at the town in the daylight."

"No luck, huh?"

"No. Nothing familiar. No faces that look like I might know them. And no one suddenly recognizing me. So, I would say that I'm not from around here."

"Then we'll travel and see if we find someplace that is familiar."

She nodded her agreement as she bit into a juicy piece of fruit. After a moment's consideration she swallowed and looked at him seriously again. "We have a problem."

"We do? What's that?" He sounded and felt nervous. Problems were so frequently unreasonable human beings.

"We need to find me a name."

He relaxed and snagged a piece of fruit and some bread. "OK. Anything you like?"

"I don't know."

"Oh. Phoebe? No." She just didn't look like a Phoebe. A Nemesis, maybe. But there was already a very beautiful lady who bore that name, as he understood it, and she might take exception to someone else borrowing it. Lila? No. Too reminiscent of a centaur's lady he had met. Unfortunately, every name he could think of had someone attached to it, memories of whom were either uncomfortable or too difficult for him to deal with having another of the same name around. "Callisto -" he muttered under his breath.

"I don't think I want to share a name with a crazy demi-god."

"What? Oh, no. I can see that. It's just -"

"Can't find one you like?"

"No."

"OK. How about Red?"

He grinned. He knew where the idea came from, her hair shown like polished iron ore in the sun. "Too mundane. Ariana."

"Ariana?"

"Yeah. I don't know anyone named Ariana."

"Ariana. I like it." They smiled at each other in agreement. "On the other hand-" she looked down at the long figure-hugging gown she wore. "This skirt has got to go."

"But - I mean -"

"It's OK. It's pretty. And it fits. But it hampers movement."

"You like leather?"

"Leather?"

"Yeah. Like - like a warrior's garb."

She considered for a moment. "No. I don't think so. I mean, it's protective, but - no. Just shorter and not so tight."

"I think we can work that out."


	2. Chapter 2

They finished breakfast. Ariana straightened the room and they went out to see what they could find in the way of shorter for her comfort. There wasn't much to the town. While Salmoneus scouted out the mercantile niches open in the area, Ariana looked into what was available in the way of fabrics and ready-made clothing. She became aware of the peculiarity of her inquiries. Ready-made and off the rack didn't seem to communicate much to the people with whom she was dealing.

Wandering away from a potter's stall in the small market square area, she noticed a trio of short skirted, armed women talking to a man selling some horses. Their attitude was self confident and somewhat militant. It was obvious that they knew where to get garb that would not get in the way of fighting, although Ariana thought the bodices a bit tight and revealing for warriors. Still, they knew something she didn't and the only way to get the information was to ask.

She approached quietly, waiting until one of the women was no longer involved in the bartering for the horse. The young woman raised her brows at the scrutiny of this villager. She was affronted by the steady gaze.

"You want something?" she demanded abruptly with a frown.

"Information."

"About what?"

"I need a less hampering outfit for traveling. Yours are the only ones I've seen that come close to what I - want."

The Amazon noticed the odd thoughtful frown that accompanied the final word. "Who are you?"

The cloud gray gaze met the Amazon's dark eyes without flinching. "Currently I answer to Ariana. Before yesterday, anybody's guess."

The other two women, having settled the bargain for the horse, discovered what had taken the youngest's attention. They looked Ariana over in an innately arrogant fashion. "What's the woman want?"

"I think she wants to wear what we do."

"We're Amazons. No one wears our garb unless she is one of us."

"Well, I don't think I'm an Amazon. It doesn't feel right. But I do know there isn't anything in this town that's right for what I want and that getting it made is going to be a hassle."

"Go back to your family, girl," the eldest of the Amazons ordered suddenly.

"If that was supposed to be insulting, try it on someone who cares," came Ariana's response. "Well, you're no help. Thanks anyway." She turned on her heel and moved back to where she could see Salmoneus trying not to gape at her. She wondered what she had done now. She'd ask. The Amazons took note of her apparent companion. The youngest was curious. The eldest was insulted and inclined to do something about it. The middle one was most interested in getting her horse and getting home.

"Ariana," Salmoneus greeted her somewhat breathlessly. "No luck?" His gaze traveled up and down to confirm his statement. "No. Salmoneus, what is with that trio over there?"

"Who? Them? Ah - nothing."

"Salmoneus -"

"They're Amazons."

"So I had gathered. Why did they seem to have a problem with me?"

"Well - they're a little - down on women who need men in their lives."

"How stupid."

"Shh." Salmoneus cautioned, noting that the Amazons were moving toward and past them.

Ariana looked around and then back to Salmoneus. She ignored the trio and their horses. "Of course, the male population doesn't seem to be much better," she observed as the Amazons elicited mixed reactions from the townspeople they passed. "Unsettled animosity, I take it."

"Kind of. The Amazons are fine warriors, but have no use for men. Most men find them -"

"Threatening."

"Yes. Very."

"Oh, surely, not you. After all, you're not a warrior, Salmoneus. You offer no insult and no competition."

"Thanks."

"I'm sorry. I don't mean - " She reached over a surprisingly gentle hand and pulled his face around to look into his eyes. She could see him resisting melting. "It wasn't a criticism. You're not a warrior. You are a very kind, traveling merchant. You should not be a problem to them - unless you tend to get pushy about your salesmanship."

"Who? Me? Pushy? Never. Well, occasionally. But only when it's a very good deal." He was relieved when she laughed and gave him a spontaneous hug.

"I guess I'm just going to have to open the sides of the skirt and live with it until we get to someplace I can find what I want."

Salmoneus considered open sides on the skirt and got a smile on his face as he remembered the long legs now properly obscured beneath it. He realized what his face was doing and sobered immediately. "If that will work," he agreed. Their eyes met and he nearly blushed at the understanding look he was getting. Maybe there was hope yet.

They left the small town early the next morning. Salmoneus made a face over his dwindling resources as he secured his coin pouch after breakfast. About an hour out of town, Ariana handed him a second small leather pouch. He stopped walking and talking as he looked from it to her. "What is this?"

"You were worried about funds running low."

"Ariana, you don't have any funds."

"No."

"Where did you get this?"

"I took it."

"You took it? From who? Where?" He tried to think back through the morning to figure out when she could have gotten money from someone. It suddenly dawned on him she had literally taken it, stolen it from someone on their way out of town. He looked at the bag like it was going to bite him. "You stole it."

Ariana looked confused. Of course, she had stolen it. How else would she have gotten it? Something in the way he was looking at her, in his entire stance, told her he wasn't happy about this. "I guess I could take it back."

Salmoneus considered this. "No." He decided. Taking it back would just make more trouble. He started to toss the bag away, and reconsidered. He emptied the half dozen coins into his hand, tossed the bag and added the coins to his own. It wasn't honest. He knew that. But he was low on funds and he had no intention of going back to such an unprofitable town. On the other hand, he launched into a long lecture on why Ariana shouldn't do this again. She didn't look particularly contrite about her action, but agreed that as long as she was in his company, she would refrain from removing coins or other items from owners who didn't keep a good grip on their belongings.

Part of Ariana wanted to rip into Salmoneus for being a hypocrite, for daring to lecture her when survival was at stake. Yet there was something that held her back, something that admitted the justification for the lecture, something that responded to the honesty expressed. She recognized Salmoneus as an opportunist, but a controlled one. She admired his eloquence. She was aware of depths beneath his almost continual chatter. She wondered if who she had been before would have been so perceptive. Having a nearly empty mind seemed to engender observation. Only, how empty could it be to perceive that there was a great deal more to Salmoneus than met the eye on cursory examination. She found his companionship reassuring, a human touch in a cold, inhuman world. She watched his emotions chase each other across his mobile face and wondered if she had always been as cold and measured as she felt. She wanted to reach out to him, to touch his reality, his warm solidness, to reassure herself that this was not some peculiar dream from which she would awaken suddenly with only misty recollections that faded as she tried to grasp them.

Salmoneus stopped lecturing as he realized that only part of his companion's attention was on what he was saying. Her face could have been carved alabaster for all the emotion she showed, yet her eyes were dark with some deep-seated pain it seemed. He touched her shoulder. "Are you all right?"

She looked into his clear blue gaze and saw only a reflection of what he knew of her there. There was no judgement, no fear, no hate. Salmoneus found himself holding her again, her arms wrapped around him as though holding on for life itself as she shook and trembled. Not knowing what else to do, he held her until the oddly silent storm passed.

She was still finally. She drew in a shaky breath and pulled back, but not away, so she could look at him again. With no warning she kissed him. It was a kiss of need and a kiss of promise. He understood that it touched her as deeply as it touched him. Then they were apart, a warm, happy smile on both their faces. There were no words needed for what they had just told each other. They resumed their walk, Salmoneus oddly silent, yet feeling somehow taller and more confident than he had felt in some time. Love can hit people that way.

Over the next two weeks, Salmoneus and Ariana explored the parameters of their new relationship and learned about each other. He found her a surprisingly good listener when he had an idea. Unlike others, she didn't immediately look exasperated at his need to find a way to get ahead. On the other hand, she had a good head for detail and caught things his immediate enthusiasms might have over looked. Her silence was not a bar to communication, but helped it.

On the other hand, bandits learned that trying to take from Salmoneus was somewhat like trying to deal with a hydra, not a good idea unless you're Hercules. As none of them were that legendary hero, Salmoneus remained unharmed and unrelieved of his goods. Several of the bandits would trouble no one else.

They stopped at the seaport of Piraeus for a few days. Salmoneus was exploring the idea of becoming a matchmaker. Having found a woman who loved him - he kept stumbling around that one - he had discovered a desire to see if he could facilitate the equal happiness of others, for a small fee, of course. Or he could charge on a sliding scale, depending on the ease and availability of suitable partners in the area. And the farther afield he had to go, the more it would cost. And there was the expense of specific desires being fulfilled, and - long walks and lots of fresh sea air, even with the fishy smell, seemed to keep the ideas coming, so he walked a lot when he wasn't with Ariana.


	3. Chapter 3

His expansion on the arena of matchmaking amused his companion. Still, it was capable of being a lucrative business for someone with the patience and knowledge. What he needed was a database. She frowned at the thought. It sounded foreign, yet correct. Instead of worrying about it, Ariana found them a place to live for a few days that wasn't a room over a tavern. Having displayed a fine hand for cooking over an open fire and a knowledge of non-poisonous vegetation which had both pleased and astounded her companion, she took over the house keeping and cooking, proving that she could do just as well in town as in the open countryside. She had also discovered that she could sew fairly well and was building herself a small wardrobe of traveling clothes and items designed to raise her companion's eyebrows as well as his interest. When she was out shopping for the day's meals, Salmoneus found himself at loose ends and taking long walks. When he wasn't enlarging on his matchmaking ideas, he was daydreaming about Ariana.

On this day, he had wandered down to the docks and was watching a ship maneuver in when he recognized one of the men on board. Only one man Salmoneus knew could lower and furl a sail by himself.

"Hercules!" he yelled and waved to the hero he hadn't seen in a while. A big grin creased his face. He was really happy to see his adventurous friend. Then it hit him. This could be his big break. Both Iolaus and Hercules were widowers and both were shy about committing themselves to new relationships due to the unhappy circumstances of their losses and to being busy heroes. If he could find the perfect matches for the two of them - what an advertising coup!

"Salmoneus," the big man identified the voice without turning around. He looked to the helm where his friend Iolaus stood keeping them on course. Iolaus rolled his eyes indicating he too had heard and identified the voice. They both laughed. After several weeks at sea, it would be good to have dry land underfoot and Salmoneus, for all his enterprising burble, would be good company.

"I wonder what he's up to now," Iolaus muttered as they tied up to the dock. He was surprised that the peddler stayed well back while they docked and came ashore.

Both Hercules and Iolaus noticed a change in their friend. He seemed more confident? Somehow, that wasn't exactly right. But he wasn't bouncing and burbling in his usual manner. Only, that wasn't exactly it, either. He was bouncing and burbling, but it was greetings and "what have you been up tos" rather than telling them all about his latest idea for profit before they had a chance to get a word in edgeways. They shook hands all around and Iolaus filled Salmoneus in on their last adventure together. Salmoneus took it all in, said it would make a good addition to his book and invited them to dinner.

"Come on." He wanted to tell them about his idea, but the timing didn't seem quite right, so he turned and led the way back to his house.

Hercules and Iolaus looked at each other and then at Salmoneus' retreating back. Salmoneus realized they weren't following and turned back to gesture for them to follow him. With nearly identical shrugs they followed. Salmoneus apologized for the length of the walk, which wasn't long. He apologized for the size of the house, which was of normal size. Then he smacked his forehead with his hand and said he'd better find Ariana and let her know they had company for dinner. Hercules and Iolaus both looked as though maybe they now had an explanation for his changes.

"Go on in and make yourselves comfortable. It should just be a few minutes." He waved them toward the house and turned to head toward the market when Ariana passed two men on the street and came into sight on her way home. He broke into a smile and waved. The smile froze as he watched her stop and look at Hercules and Iolaus. There was something in the look that worried him. He turned back to the two men to make a preliminary introduction. What he saw in their faces confirmed that there was trouble on the way. Iolaus had moved away from Hercules' side, a look of pure anger on his face. Hercules looked puzzled and disturbed.

"You." The word burst from Iolaus as though he wanted to hurl himself at Ariana, but was also stunned to see her at all.

She walked up, a basket with dinner items in her arms. Her face was a mask as she looked from one man to the other.

"You look surprised," she responded softly. Nothing in her voice reflected the massive conflicting emotions and reactions flooding her mind. Suddenly she was whole again. She knew these men. She had threatened both and fought against them. She also knew that they were friends of the man at her side. Salmoneus looked bewildered and hurt. The look was like a dagger in her heart. Yet she could not deny what the others knew and what she had done. Her problem was to keep the animosity from escalating and catching Salmoneus in its wake.

"This is Hercules. And his friend, Iolaus," Salmoneus found himself introducing them lamely. Ariana looked at him. For a moment, there was a terrifying stranger in her face. Then she softened and smiled at him. He almost breathed a sigh of relief. It was all right. His love and his friends would be all right. He hoped. Iolaus didn't look particularly friendly.

"I invited them for dinner," he added diffidently.

"Then it's a good thing I got more than usual," she told him, the smile in her eyes just for him, nodded to the other two and entered the house.

Hercules and Iolaus exchanged another look as Salmoneus turned back to them, his normal big grin fading a little. Two sets of concerned blue eyes met his own. The slightly wary look he was getting from Salmoneus bothered Hercules. But so did the presence of the woman who had nearly killed Iolaus and had delivered Hercules himself into the hands of Hera's servants. Yet her dealings with Salmoneus suggested there was more to her than the murderous assassin they had known. Uncertain of just how to deal with the situation, he decided not to make trouble just yet. With a faint nod, Hercules smiled at his newer friend. Iolaus looked away, but accepted whatever decision Hercules had made. Together, they entered the house of Salmoneus.

Conversation over dinner was strained. Iolaus had reservations about eating at all, but followed his friend's lead until he discovered that the food was delicious. He consoled himself with the thought that anything tastes good when you come in off the water. His mouth told him differently. The woman Salmoneus called Ariana was an exceptional cook.

"Ariana. That's a nice name," Hercules commented as dinner wound down. It was not the name she had used three weeks earlier.

"Salmoneus gave it to me." There was nothing contrite in her attitude as she met his gaze squarely. If there was any regret for her previous actions, it didn't show.

"Why?" Iolaus wanted to know.

"She, uh, couldn't remember her name when I met her," Salmoneus explained uneasily.

"Oh. Well. I can see telling him that." The cut was directed at Ariana.

"It wasn't like that -" Salmoneus started to object.

Hercules could see and hear the uncomprehending hurt in the man. He could also see that Iolaus was not about to back down. Ariana's shadowed gaze met his across the table. What he saw there was not the woman he had met before. There was a plea there for his help in stopping Iolaus before he went too far.

"Iolaus."

The smaller man's head snapped around so he could look at his friend. There was a note in Hercules' voice that he hadn't expected to hear. Hercules wanted him to back off for some reason. Here was a woman more treacherous than Xena when he first met her, a woman who had nearly killed both of them not a month earlier, and he wanted to let her get her claws into Salmoneus? While Iolaus sometimes found the peddler a nuisance and annoying, he wouldn't wish that on anyone. What was Hercules thinking? He knew that slight frown between Hercules' brows too well to demand answers now.

"I think I'll go for a walk. Make sure the boat's secure."

"You do that," Hercules agreed.

Ariana started gathering up the dishes. Salmoneus moved to help her and was waved off. "Sit and talk to your friend. I can handle this. It's all right," she assured him as she finished collecting things and left the room.

A long silence developed between the two men. Hercules couldn't figure out what to say and Salmoneus really didn't want to ask. Salmoneus found himself in a place he had seldom been, two people he cared about, really cared about, were unhappy with each other and he didn't know what to do about it. There wasn't a joke he could make to pass it off because he didn't know the extent of the problem. He knew he loved Ariana, but he didn't want to lose the friendship he had developed with the hero. He had learned a great deal about himself in the past few years since he and Hercules had met. He wasn't heroic himself, he had always known that. But he was useful and resourceful. You couldn't survive being friends with men like Hercules, like there was anyone else quite like Hercules, without being a just a little bit capable on your own.

But he loved Ariana. He could think of little she could have done that would make him stop loving her. Maybe if she'd killed Hercules. But she hadn't. He was sitting across the table from Hercules who was alive and well and had a problem with Ariana. Salmoneus was beginning to wonder if his thoughts were ever going to run in anything but circles again.

"Salmoneus," Hercules began. Looking into the other man's face, he couldn't just make the statements he wanted to make. Your new love is a murderer and a thief and nearly killed both Iolaus and myself. It just wouldn't come out. "Where did you meet Ariana?"

"In the woods. Outside - you know, I don't think we ever did figure out just which town it was. She was - she was hurt and I thought she'd been attacked by bandits or something."

"So you took her to the town."

"Yeah. Only nobody knew her there."

"And she didn't know anybody."

"No." Salmoneus frowned as he thought about that first meeting. "She didn't recognize your name."

"She didn't?"

"No. I - I heard her before I saw her."

"And you announced that -"

"We were friends." He thought for a moment before continuing. "She didn't know. She wasn't - she wasn't just pretending."

Hercules thought about what he was seeing in Salmoneus' face as well as what he was saying. The differences between the woman he had dealt with then and her actions now were great enough to make him believe what Salmoneus believed. Something had happened between the time Hera's temple collapsed and Salmoneus finding her in the woods.

"What was she wearing?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Well, dirt and a little blood from the wound on her head, but otherwise, nothing."

"A wound?" He remembered seeing one of the temple guards take a swing at her as she was leaving. The wound would have been in her side, not her head. In the collapsing masonry, a chunk might have hit her. She was certainly gone by the time he and Iolaus had gotten out and away from the debris pile. He tried to recall how close to any wooded area the temple had been. Then there was the question of a road leading away from Thrace and eventually toward Piraeus. The distances weren't making any sense. Unless there had been some intervention ... He remembered a whirlwind trip and long fall to which he had once been treated courtesy of his stepmother Hera. Could someone else have survived a punishment like that?

"What happened?" Salmoneus cut into his thoughts. "It's like that time Iolaus and Xena -"

"I know. It's not quite as bad as what lay between them. She used Iolaus to get to me, but not to try to fight me. She succeeded where Xena didn't."

"You're alive."

"We fought our way out of one of Hera's major temples."

"Ah." There didn't seem to be anything else to say.

"Salmoneus, she's - she's not like she was when we were dealing with her. Either you've had a really changing effect on her, or there's been some other reason for her to change. It doesn't feel the same." Both of them knew he wasn't trying to apologize for the reserve he had shown since meeting Ariana this day, yet he was trying to find a reason for the differences in her behavior. And there was a difference now that he really thought about it.

He met the other man's concerned look again. "I don't know. A month ago she was trying to kill me. Now - now the threat's no longer there. Look, tell her I can - I can't forgive what she did to Iolaus, but I can refrain from making trouble between the two of you. I saw how she looks at you." There was a longing in his own look, a pain of remembrance for the woman he had loved and lost. "I won't try to change that."

There was an understanding silence between them. Both stood and then shook hands as friends.

"I'd better go find Iolaus," he said with a faint smile and left.

Ariana came back into the room and put her arms around Salmoneus. "He's very nice."

"Yeah. Ariana -"

She let him turn to face her. "Why? Was it true? Yes. I remember now." She focused on the v-neck of his tunic, not quite wanting to watch his face as she spoke. "I - I needed something very badly. Or thought I did. Hera said she could accomplish this thing. I guess I didn't really believe her by the time I was finished. But I had gone so far, done so much that - that couldn't really be justified - I couldn't tell them. I just had to follow through as though I still believed."

"You were going to kill Hercules?" There was disbelief and hurt in his voice.

"No. I was to bring him to her temple. When she insisted I kill him and showed no sign of keeping her part of the bargain, I - facilitated part of his escape."

"Tell him."

"No."

He cupped a hand under her chin and tilted her head up until he could look into her eyes. They were bright with unshed tears. "Tell him."

"I can't. He might believe, but not Iolaus. I hurt him. I would have killed him if I'd had to do so. Don't make excuses. I won't lie to you. I don't even think I was crazy enough for that to be an excuse. I was obsessed. I'm not any more. Well, a little," she ended with a mischievous smile. It faded as she met his gaze.

"I know. It makes it difficult for you." She kissed him gently and let go. "I - I don't know what to do or say. I can't undo what I've done. I can't ask for them to forgive me. I wouldn't. But I don't want them to stay away from you because I'm here."

"They won't."

"Maybe."

He took her in his arms and held her. He felt as thought his heart would burst. Hercules was his friend. He was an understanding friend who liked him in spite of his foibles and occasional hot air. Ariana was his love. He felt for her, as he could not recall having felt about another. She was beautiful, and intelligent, and like no other woman he had ever admired or lusted after. She loved him. And that was different from most of the others for whom he had ever felt anything.

"We'll talk about it in the morning."

She looked at him in a way calculated to drive almost all intelligent thought out of his brain. "OK."


	4. Chapter 4

Salmoneus was still sleeping soundly with a pleased smile on his face when the sun rose. Ariana, her decision on a course of action already made, slipped from the bed they shared, dressed and left as silently as a shadow. She made her way down to the port where Iolaus was waking up from sleeping on the boat. Spotting him from a distance, Ariana hurried on to the beach instead of booking passage on one of the boats outbound. She didn't want Salmoneus to find her.

Down the beach there was a wave sculpted outcropping of rock. She stopped behind it, on the seaward side and settled down to wait. If the tide came in, as the rock indicated it did, she'd just float out on the tide. She blinked back the tears she wanted to shed. Life seemed very unfair right now. But sufficient thought had shown her that staying with Salmoneus could deprive him of more than the occasional companionship of a demi-god and his friend. Hercules might not know that she had broken her bargain with Hera, but Hera did. The goddess might not have enough power to do what she had originally promised, but she did have enough to make her life very interesting. Given what Salmoneus had told her about Hercules, and what she had put together while hunting the son of Zeus, anyone she got close to could become the target of Hera's rage. She had seen too many good friends and lovers precede her in death. She accepted that this happened. But she refused to paint a bull's eye on someone she loved.

The tide started inching in. Soon it would lift the ragged line of beached fishing boats that lay like abandoned toys on the sand. She sat and waited. Patience was something she had learned long ago.

Hercules stopped by the house to say goodbye to Salmoneus. He and Iolaus had decided not to extend their stay in Piraeus. After some discussion, they had decided to go visit Alcmene and Jason whom they hadn't seen in several months. Salmoneus was disappointed, but understood.

"She - Well, she didn't exactly give me a blow by blow description, but she told me about - "

"She did."

"Yeah. I understand. Xena changed. Ariana changed. You have that effect on people."

Hercules grinned and laughed at that. "It could be an interesting trend," he agreed. They exchanged a heart-felt handgrip and parted.

It took only a few minutes for Hercules to get to the dock. The tide was coming in strong. Soon he and Iolaus would be back out on the water and headed for his brother's kingdom.

"You said good-bye."

"I told him the change would take some getting used to."

"She hasn't changed."

"Iolaus -"

"I saw her this morning. She was staring holes in my back when I got up."

"Iolaus - that doesn't make any sense."

"We could ask her."

"I don't think Salmoneus would like that."

"She went up the beach and hasn't come back."

Hercules turned to frown at the beach, which was being rapidly submerged by the incoming tide. "She hasn't come back?"

"No." Iolaus turned from the line he was coiling to look at the beach. It hit him that the beach was a dangerous place to be right now for a woman on foot. A look of uncertainty crossed his face. "I probably didn't see her."

"You were keeping a watch."

"Yeah, I was."

They vaulted the boat rail simultaneously and headed down the beach in the foaming surf. They reached the rock where she was now standing at almost the same time. Iolaus circled the back of the outcropping, just in case of trouble. Ariana looked wet and surprised to see them.

"What are you doing?"

"Inventing body surfing?"

Hercules looked at her blankly for a moment. Nothing had prepared him for a sense of humor. "The tide's coming in."

"I know."

"You're committing suicide?" Iolaus asked, finding it difficult to keep his footing against the surging water.

"No. Just, leaving." She braced against the smooth rock as the surf rolled in again, the water foaming around her knees.

"Leaving?"

"Leaving."

"Why not take a boat?" Iolaus asked.

"Does Salmoneus know?" Hercules thought this was the more important question.

"No."

"Why not?"

"I didn't want him to talk me out of it."

"I thought you were in love with him." Iolaus' tone belied his statement. He hadn't believed it for a minute.

She looked around at him. "Hera's very angry with me. You've been around Hercules enough to know what kind of a target people you love become when there's an angry goddess in the area. Especially a not too sane angry goddess. He doesn't deserve that."

"But he does deserve to have his heart broken."

She took a deep breath and turned to answer Hercules. A large breaker caught them all off guard and tumbled Iolaus back up the beach. Hercules held onto the edge of the rock. Ariana grimaced as she was bounced into the rock face then caught her footing on the beach sand again. She inched her way up the rock to prepare for the next wave.

"You'd better get off the beach."

"You're coming with me."

She'd forgotten how fast he could move as he caught hold of her wrist. His footing was not as solid as hers. "No."

"We'll work it out."

"I am working it out." Her eyes focused over his head and she frowned. "We've got company," she shouted over the sound of the water.

Behind Hercules, a half dozen sea-dwelling warriors arose from the water. Above them the sky over the beach darkened, lightening flashes illuminating the clouds from within. To Iolaus it looked like a trap as he waded into the water and the battle. Hercules understood it was just an opportunity for his stepmother. He let go of the rock and let the water sweep him farther up the beach. Ariana climbed to the top of the rock to get a good look at the opposition. Lightning crackled and struck beside her. She hit the beach, swallowed water and surfaced choking. A hand helped her up. She was beside Hercules as the enemy closed on them


	5. Chapter 5

Salmoneus went back inside the house after Hercules left. He finished dressing and looked around for something to nibble on while he waited for Ariana to return with breakfast. The house seemed very empty. He reached for the knife she used in the kitchen to cut a piece of cheese and realized it was gone. He looked on the floor and on the table. Understanding flowed through him like panic. He went back to the bedroom. Her traveling gear was gone. He sat down on the side of the bed feeling old and empty. She'd left him. No note, no reason, nothing. She was gone. He felt like crying.

A crack of thunder made him jump. He went to close the window shutters out of habit and looked out the window toward the harbor. That was an awfully odd storm. The last time he'd seen something like that - the last time he'd seen something like that, there had been a very angry goddess in the area. Hera had sent Ariana after Hercules. By her own admission, she had helped Hercules and Iolaus escape. Puzzle pieces dropped into place.

"Ariana!" Her name was a cry of denial as he ran out of the house.

Most of the rest of the town was intent on getting away from the waterfront. Warriors covered in seaweed and barnacles kept surfacing. The trio fighting on the beach kept knocking them down, but more kept coming. And they were dodging jolts of lightning as well. Iolaus and Ariana found themselves back to back battling four of the watery warriors. Both were breathing hard. Both swung and connected with two of their opponents leaving them suddenly aware of each other.

Iolaus nodded. "We'll discuss our past later."

Ariana swallowed and nodded her agreement as they forged back into the battle. She was getting tired, but she fought on despite a flickering consideration of just letting one of them take her down. She knew it would not be permanent, just a painful excursion to the edges of oblivion. But Iolaus would then be on his own. Hercules was occupied with a ridiculous number of the things. Iolaus didn't have a choice. He fought and won or he died. Ariana was determined to keep that from happening if she could do so.

Water swirled around them, almost hip deep now. She caught his arm and pointed up the beach toward where Hercules fought. "Off the beach. Maybe they're not as good on dry land," she yelled over the storm and surf. He nodded his agreement and they began to make their way up the beach to shallower water.

The storm overhead grumbled and growled. It felt like things were gearing up for a final all out assault as Iolaus and Ariana reached the area where Hercules was holding his own against the strange warriors. They seemed slower in the shallower water. Engrossed in their battle, none of them saw the lone figure heading toward them. Salmoneus wasn't certain what he could do against the warriors, but he wasn't going to let Ariana go without doing something. He tightened his grip on the only weapon he'd come across, a large, long handled copper pot; and continued toward the fight.

The last of the warriors fell back into the water, dissolving like sea foam and swirling away. Iolaus and Ariana were leaning on each other for support while Hercules looked around to make certain that was the last of them. They all saw Salmoneus just as the largest lightning bolt of all arced down out of the cloud toward them. He waved the pot overhead and yelled something they couldn't distinguish. Ariana howled and broke away from Iolaus as she realized what was about to happen. The pot acting like a lightning rod drew the strike directly down on Salmoneus. He was knocked back out of the surf, landing on dry sand with a limpness that appalled those watching. The storm dissipated, the sun shining down on the scene as Ariana reached him.

She skidded onto her knees, checking for a pulse in his neck, for breathing, for a heart beat. There was nothing.

"No!" The word was a scream of defiance to all the puny little gods in this universe. "No!" She felt Hercules and Iolaus arrive behind her as she worked to straighten Salmoneus out on his back. She dredged up everything she had ever learned in CPR classes. Her actions bemused the other two as she blew into Salmoneus' lungs and then followed with heart compressions. Lightning strikes tended to stop the system, but not to the point of making them impossible to restart if you knew how.

"What are you doing?" Hercules knelt down behind her. There was a rhythm and purpose to her actions.

"Where I come from, it's called CPR. If I do it right, and there isn't too much damage, he'll come back."

"OK."

Iolaus looked like he thought she was crazy. Salmoneus had been struck by the power of the gods and was dead. Only it didn't always work that way. He remembered getting struck by lightning once. It had made his life very interesting for a few days. He'd seen the future and almost gotten the wrong person killed at one point. For that matter, he'd been dead, too. With a philosophical shrug of his shoulders, he decided to wait and see. For now, Hera seemed content with the havoc she'd already wreaked.

Salmoneus was standing in a line that was moving forward slowly. His right hand hurt - sort of. Maybe it didn't really hurt; maybe he just thought it did. Or that it should. He tapped the shoulder of the fellow in front of him.

"Excuse me."

The man turned to look at him. "Yes?"

"What are we standing in line for?"

The man turned back toward the front of the line and pointed. There were four people in front of him. Beyond that was a boat. A boat? This wasn't the harbor. This wasn't the beach. This was -

"Oh, no! Wait a minute. I'm not supposed to be here -"

"So many of them say that," somebody grumbled as another person moved forward into the boat. "It's 'I'm not supposed to be here' and 'this can't be right' and 'I want to talk to Hades'. You're here. You're dead. You're posted through to destination."

Salmoneus recognized the grumbler with dismay. Charon. Then this was the river Styx and he was - he was - he was choking.

"Come on. Salmoneus, please. Come back." A woman's voice pleading in the - the sun? He blinked and coughed. A face came into focus, tears streaking the cheeks. A pretty face. He blinked and choked again. Someone hauled him into a sitting position and held him while the coughing subsided. Ariana smiled over his shoulder at Iolaus. It was a watery smile.

Salmoneus sat back and looked at her. Then he looked at Hercules and Iolaus. "Hello. Do I know you?"

The three looked at each other in shock. They hadn't expected him to have his own memory loss.

"Yes. I'm Hercules."

"Hercules!" There was recognition in the voice. "Big guy. Fights monsters. Nice guy. I'm tired." He sounded puzzled by this.

Hercules and Iolaus looked to Ariana in concern. Should he be tired?

"It's OK. Let's get you home and you can lie down."

"Thanks. That'll be nice. Where's home?" he burbled as they helped him to his feet.

"This way."

They got him back to the house and into bed where he curled up and fell peacefully asleep. They gathered back in the living area to dry out and discuss what to do now.

"Is that normal?" Hercules asked.

"I don't know. Lightening is a capricious unknown even in my time. Some people don't even get knocked out. Some die. Some lose motor skills - coordination. Some lose memory. He seems to be all right. I'll keep an eye on him."

"No more body surfing?"

"Not for now," she assured him as she sat down. She got an unfocused look as tears spilled down her face. She wasn't wailing or sobbing, just quietly crying. Salmoneus had been hurt just as she had feared he might, because of her. It was as though all the deaths she had ever witnessed suddenly piled down on her. The reaction caught both men by surprise. Yet it was Iolaus who found himself reaching out to comfort her. His eyes met Hercules' over her head and he grimaced ruefully. He really didn't hold grudges well.

"I'm sorry," she apologized soggily as she laid her head against his shoulder. "I didn't mean to -"

"It's all right. Really. I'm not mad anymore. Can't stay mad at someone who helps save my life."

He got a watery smile for that. "I am sorry. I just wasn't quite sane, I think."

"Just now?"

"No. Just then."

"I'd like to understand," he said slowly.

"I don't belong here. I come from - I don't know exactly. I used to think it was from the future, but some of what I've run into doesn't jibe with what I thought I knew."

"Try that again."

"OK. Hercules is a major mythological personage. Son of Zeus. Very strong. Stable cleaning a specialty. Intelligent but not wise. Admittedly, myths and history are written to suit the tenor of the times, but there are some major points that differ. Not to mention the time line itself. I ran into Julius Caesar a while back."

"Who's he?"

"Roman general. But if this is the time of Hercules, then he's not due to be born for another 700 to 1000 years."

"He's not?"

"No. Not by the recorded history of my time. And not by the historical record we can verify with physical remains - cities, burials, etc. That was one of the things that started to clue me in to the fact that I might be crazy but this was real and not a hallucination with a lot of interesting detail."

"You thought we were an hallucination?" He was following, but he wasn't any closer to understanding than when she started.

"If this is really my world, where I belong and the time of Hercules are separated by 3 to 4 thousand years."

"Thousand."

"Thousand."

"In the future?"

"Yeah."

"This is crazy."

"You got it."

"But you're not crazy." She was pleased that this was a statement rather than a question.

"I don't think so. Although I think I was when we first ran into each other."

"Why did we go through all that?" Hercules asked quietly.

"Because I wanted to go home," she answered with a sigh.

"And Hera promised -"

"To send me home if I brought her Hercules. Of course, that was nearly 5 years ago."

"You'd been looking for me -"

"For almost 5 years. It had begun to occur to me that it was a little doubtful that a goddess who couldn't obliterate her own stepson would be able to summon up enough power to put me back where I belong."

"You dropped the key." Iolaus looked puzzled. "The key we found on the floor."

"That unlocked the doors."

"And the manacles of Hephaestes."

Understanding dawned. "You helped us get out."

"As much as I could, having just called Hera a liar and a cheat; not to mention an incompetent bungler."

"You called - She's mad at you."

"No," Ariana responded in mock disbelief. "Whatever gave you that idea?" she asked with a laugh.

"Surf's up?"

They both laughed.

"Seriously. You're in love with Salmoneus?"

"Seriously."

"How - I mean - Sal's a nice guy, but -"

"But why not a lean, muscular good guy?" she asked leaning toward him and staring deeply into his eyes in a manner calculated to play havoc with his respiration and temperature control systems.

"Yeah," he responded huskily.

"Because after 65 years of falling for world savers, I'm tired of losing them."

Iolaus felt his jaw drop. World savers. Well, yes. Sort of. Hercules was, anyway. He just tagged along for the ride. Sixty-five years? His mouth refused to cooperate with the words.

"Yes." She looked around to include Hercules in her explanation. "I'm immortal. At least, technically. I believe there is an amount of damage from which I probably could not recover, but I haven't hit it yet. I'm - counting the 5 years here, about 90."

Iolaus couldn't resist the look up and down. "You don't look it."

That made her smile. "Believe me, the mileage is all there. I spent a lot of time where I belong doing what you and Hercules do."

"But - why?"

She took a moment to think how to explain the about face she'd pulled since being here, since her initial meeting with Hera. "Things had gotten very - tense, that's a good word - just before I got dumped here. I'd retired from being heroic and couldn't seem to keep from attracting the kind of trouble that gets the people around me hurt. I'd lost the last of my closest friends. I'd solved a major problem, but not before a dozen people died. It was fast, probably relatively painless, but it wasn't fun to watch and be helpless while it happened. I'd sat down on the side of a desert mountain to see if I could find a reason for it all. And just about the time the dehydration hallucinations were due to set in, I found myself face down in a grassy meadow. And there's a throne and this woman with the wildest eyes I've ever seen. I thought I was crazy. For about three and a half years, I thought this was all inside my head." She gestured to indicate not just the room and its occupants, but the world they knew.

Iolaus looked like he was having a hard time with this concept. Hercules, having dealt with his own variant of such madness just nodded. It made a distorted sort of sense to him.

"I figured Hera was just a - a representation of authority of some sort and finding Hercules and bringing him to her was symbolic of dealing with my problems and freeing myself from them. Follow the scenario and eventually get untangle brained and wake up to the real world."

"Only it didn't happen."

"No. It occurred to me that being the sort of person I am, it should never have taken that long to find my symbol and deal with this. I'd gotten kinda straight line in my search, not paying a lot of attention to who I went through - barring obviously innocuous people like kids and most of the women who crossed my path. I think I panicked when I realized this is all real. The things that didn't fit were that way because this was real, not mythology playing out neatly in my well educated mind. Suddenly, I had to find Hercules and I didn't care who got in my way or how I accomplished it. I had to get home, back to the safe and sane world I knew." She laughed at that. "Safe and sane. Right. As though those things had ever mattered to me."

"You poisoned me."

"Well, not exactly."

"Not - I couldn't move."

"No. But mostly that was hypnotic suggestion and the smallest trace of one very rare drug that makes people very suggestible."

"You lied to me." Hercules didn't sound particularly upset about it now.

"Yes."

"You could have told me."

"I know that - now. Then, I didn't trust anyone. I couldn't. I didn't trust Hera, and she was my ticket home."

"Only she wasn't. So you had an alternative plan. But if you didn't care -"

"Too many years of being one of the good guys, I guess. No, I knew your reputation and nothing you did while in my company negated it. If - No, when I confirmed my suspicions about Hera, I didn't want your death on top of everything else."

"So, how did you meet Salmoneus? We're miles away from the temple. But you met him within hours of it collapsing."

"I think I have Hera to thank for that."

"Hera?"

"Well, there was this sort of updraft and then I was falling. I vaguely recall smacking into a number of trees. And then there was Salmoneus. I think he was expecting bandits and hoping for rabbits."

"That sounds like Salmoneus."

"Unless he's looking for quail."

"He's a very good quail hunter," she agreed with Iolaus.

"So, now what?"

"Well, if he still wants me around when he wakes up, I guess I'll stay with Salmoneus."

"No adventuring?"

Her face darkened for a moment. "Not deliberately. Mind you, with his penchant for wandering around -" She looked up at answering grins. Their paths were certain to cross again.

They got dry, Ariana fed them and they took turns checking on Salmoneus through the night. They let her sleep when he woke up hungry at dawn. He ate and went back to sleep for a while. When Ariana awoke, she took her basket and went down to the market. She answered questions about Hercules and his cute blond friend as patiently as she could before heading back. It was nearly noon as she walked up the street toward the house. She enjoyed the quiet as she neared the doorway, then froze just as she reached the entrance. The silence was absolute, all motion seemingly frozen. Not even flies buzzed in the lazy heat. With a muted roar a black whirlwind sprang from nowhere, enveloping her completely. She felt her feet leave the ground, then all sensation stopped until she hit a stone floor with a thump. It was dark and cold and felt like she was enclosed for all time in this invisible place. She sat and waited.

Hercules and Iolaus burst from the house as the whirlwind descended on Ariana. They launched at and through it only to fetch up against the wall on the other side of the street. Her basket sat neatly in the street. Ariana was gone. Salmoneus appeared in the doorway and walked out to see what was going on.

"Hercules." He offered him a hand up. "Iolaus. What are you doing here? Come to think of it," he continued as he looked around and absently scooped up an apple. "Where is here?"

"Piraeus," Hercules said gently.

"Piraeus. Piraeus. What am I doing in Piraeus? Last thing I remember I was leaving Thrace. There was this woods. I was a little worried about it. Piraeus. Well, what brings you to Piraeus?"

"It's a long story -" They walked back into the house, Iolaus bringing the basket and the rest of the fruit and wondering just what Hercules was going to tell Salmoneus.


	6. Chapter 6

A dim light filtered into the dark. Ariana looked up. There was a tracery of sunlight across the top of the room. The light strengthened. After an hour or so, she could make out some of the features of the room. It seemed to be a tomb with an elaborate wall marker over the sarcophagus. A huge gemstone glowed redly in the reflected light. She stood up and walked over to the sarcophagus. She ran her hands over the strangely flat surface. It was more like an altar than a burial container.

"Good call." The voice behind her was male, rich and vibrant.

She turned slowly to face him. As tall as Hercules, well-muscled, black hair falling in ordered curls to his shoulders, black leather tunic, pants and boots. He was handsome and arrogant. A sword worth a king's ransom hung from his belt.

"You don't recognize me. Well, I can't say we've met before. But that doesn't make me any less angry." His somewhat feral smile turned downward. "You failed me."

"What?"

"What?" he echoed. "Such an innocent. You were supposed to kill Hercules. And do so before he got to Xena."

His statements bewildered her and it showed. "You dumped me in that meadow."

"You have a good grasp of the obvious."

"You yanked me out of my own place and time and dumped me into that hell hole of a world and you have the temerity to get mad at me?"

The amount of anger in her voice must have clued him in to the fact that this interview was no longer going as planned. "You were the proper tool for the job."

"Tool. As in rhymes with fool, no doubt. You son of a bitch."

He wasn't used to fights getting up close and personal. It hurt when his head hit the floor. He pulled his sword and scrambled to his feet. If this bitch wanted a fight, she'd get one. Albeit a short one. The sword glowed in the dim light.

Ariana pulled up short when she focused on the sword. It glowed. It wasn't reflecting the sunlight coming through the roof. It wasn't reflecting the fire of the gemstone. It was glowing itself. Obviously, she was still in the time of gods and goddesses and what amounted to magic. This god wanted Hercules dead. That narrowed the field a bit.

"Ares."

"At your service. You could even boast you knocked the god of war down - if you survived."

"I'm still alive." It was a hollow boast even in her own ears. She could take a lot of damage, but there was a chance that a god could kill her, permanently. She moved to stay out of reach of the shimmering blade. If she could just get him to talk. "I'm a little surprised to find out that *you* are."

He laughed. It wasn't a pleasant sound in the enclosed space. "Getting buried alive is not the most pleasurable of experiences." The words were out before he realized that she probably hadn't known she was back in her own time before this. She watched his face change as he recognized his error. He was arrogant and he was inclined to boast. Both could be used to her advantage if she could keep away from the sword while she talked to him.

"If you're incarcerated, how did you manage to effect me? You can't get out, so how -"

He made a circling motion with the tip of his blade. "Concentration and power. They made certain I couldn't get out and that all war magic is blocked -"

"But this wasn't actively warlike."

"No. It wasn't. You still fouled it up."

"Maybe you should have met me when I arrived and explained the idea instead of Hera."

"Hera? She meddled in this? No wonder -"

The thought distracted him enough to give her an opening. Instead of trying to harm him, she went for the sword. It might just give her an edge against an angry god. As she knocked it from his grasp, she nearly lost it herself. To retain her grip on the thing she ended up sprawled on the floor in the dirt. There was a howl of dismay that nearly deafened her. Something had happened. She scooted across the floor to the nearest wall and settled against it before pulling her hair out of her face to see what had happened.

Her opponent was on his hands and knees on the floor where she had hit him. There was something different about him. He was still big and muscled but something was gone. Even his clothes looked different. He wasn't wearing well cared for leather anymore. He looked up at her with glaring eyes.

"Give me my sword," he commanded.

"This?"

He reached toward her. She kicked his hand away. "Ow!" Pain.

"Give me back my sword!" It was a bellow of rage as he launched toward her.

She moved just far enough out of his way to be able to come up behind him and get a good hold on his neck and hair. His hair felt greasy, unwashed. Her strength was surprising for one not a warrior. He felt his air being cut off. He tried to dislodge her. This was worse than being taken on by Xena. He started to black out from lack of oxygen.

"Enough." The hold on his throat loosened. He gasped for air. "What do you want?"

"To go home."

"Fine. Give me the sword."

"The sword. The sword has the power."

"I have the power. The sword focuses it."

"You're lying. Oh, I don't doubt that your own genetics have a great deal to do with your ability to wield the sword's power. Some sort of synergy, I would think. But I think the sword is the key. Isn't it?" She tightened her grip again.

He tried to dislodge her again. He heard the blade hit the ground. He went to his knees and then onto his belly to reach for that precious blade, his crown of godhood. Ariana let go of his hair and brought the point of her elbow down on his bicep. He howled in pain, jerking his hand back. She released him and dove for the sword herself. She came up as he did. The point of the sword touched the base of his throat. She suspected that as long as someone else was in control of the sword, he could not take it from them. His actions confirmed this. Instead of grabbing the blade to wrest it from her, he backed away from the point spreading his arms away from his body to indicate his surrender, however temporary.

"Now what?" he grated.

"Circles," she said thoughtfully. "Whirling winds. Sympathetic magic?" She made small circling motions with the sword. She could feel power pulsing through it. "That's part of it." She could read confirmation in his eyes. "But how to choose where to go? And where are we?"

"My tomb," he answered as though stating the obvious.

Her eyes flickered to the ceiling. "Why don't you just climb out of here?"

"I can't."

"You're a - It's enchanted against your getting out. But the sword can open a - a doorway, a portal." There was something wrong with the line of reasoning, but she couldn't fathom it. And the sword seemed to be taking on a life of its own. It was still circling, although she wasn't causing it to do so. Power continued to build as she backed away from him. The sword having opened a portal before was now attuned to doing so. "How do you tell it where?" she whispered.

"Just think about it."

A vision of hot, dry, pine covered mountains filled her mind. She could see the old adobe house outside Cloudcroft with its modern additions. She could see the stable where she had intended to house a couple of range mustangs. The whirlwind was there, though this time it was manifesting as a sideways tunnel. Home. It called to her. She stepped forward to the mouth of that whirling tunnel. Something heavy hit her, knocking the sword out of her grasp but pushing her into the tunnel. She hit gravel and rolled. The black whirling tunnel was gone. But she was not alone.

"My sword!" he howled again. Ten feet away from her was Ares, the Ancient Greek god of war reduced to mortal status by lack of his enchanted sword. Once again on his hands and knees, he beat one fist against the gravel drive until it hurt too much to continue. He scrambled up into a crouch to face her.

"You did this!"

She took a step backwards at the fury in his face. Then she grinned and laughed. "So. You're out, aren't you?"

"I'm mortal!"

"Live with it." She walked past him to the house. The state of the art electronic lock accepted her pass code and let her in to the cool darkness of the living room. She threw herself into her favorite chair, kicked off her sandals and put her feet up. It felt good to be back in familiar surroundings. She would miss Salmoneus. Sweet, enterprising Salmoneus. She would have to see if she could unearth any records of the ancient entrepreneur. Her eyes snapped open. What day was it? What year? It had to be close to the time she disappeared. The house didn't look like it had been empty for very long. Was she late for the beginning of the semester?

She reached for the phone and was relieved to find it still worked. She hadn't missed too may bills. She dialed the time and temperature service. August 15, 1996. She breathed a sigh of relief and hung up, letting the lethargy of relief flow through her. She just wanted to sit and be comfortable for a while.

Ares stood in the gravel drive and watched the woman walk away from him. She was walking away from him. How could she? He was the god of war - All right, for now he was the ex-god of war. That still didn't give her the right to walk away from him that way. Who did she think she was? Callisto? Xena? Maybe she was as good as they were, in her own way, but -

He stopped trying to figure it out and walked up the driveway to the house. The door did not open at his push. This was crazy. Doors opened when you pushed on them, unless they were held from the other side. The door held. He hit the door with his fist and regretted it. Now his knuckles were sore in addition to the deepening bruise on the side of the same hand. Inside Ariana opened her eyes and looked at the door. Why didn't the idiot just come in? Then she grinned. Of course. He didn't know about doorknobs. She thought about letting him stew for a while, but decided that since she was now home, she could afford to be a little more gracious than that. She got up, padded over to the door and opened it just as he was about to pound on it again. "It's open."

"I noticed." He pushed past her into the room. It was small by his standards, but felt comfortable. He commandeered the couch and looked around. "It'll do."

"It better. This is what there is."

"Fine. I'll sleep here."

"Why?"

"It's comfortable."

"So's the bed in the bedroom."

"What?"

"Modern living arrangements are divided up. This is a living room. It's for the social interaction of those who live in the house and their outside friends, relations and the occasional enemy. Then there are bedrooms: rooms in which the main accouterment is a bed. Generally with clean sheets and blankets and pillows. Also a little more comfortable than my overstuffed couch because even a man of your height can stretch out comfortably instead of getting stuck in an uncomfortable position."

"OK. So where do you cook?" It was obvious that the fireplace in front of him was not the primary cooking area.

"In the kitchen."

"Kitchen."

"Kitchen. This way."

Despite his desire to remain in command of the situation, or at least feel like he was, he got up and followed her. The kitchen was difficult. Set up for her own use, it ran around the perimeters of what had once been an all purpose room. A fixed island dominated the center of the room, a gleaming light fixture overhead. Ariana pulled out one of the stools clustered around it and indicated he should sit.

"Hungry?"

"Yes." And he was. He'd forgotten how being mortal was different from being a god. Food was a pleasure of the senses, but not necessary for a god. It was very necessary for a mortal body. He hated being mortal. He tried to not watch while Ariana checked the refrigerator for still edible foodstuffs, pulled two microwave dinners out of the freezer and put them in the microwave for several minutes, made a relatively fresh salad and set out chips and salsa. He looked at the chips and salsa suspiciously.

"You use the chips to scoop up the salsa and eat both," she instructed and did so in illustration. "Mm - this is hot so be careful." Realizing he probably would not be careful, she handed him a large mug of cold water just as he discovered what she meant by hot. "Jalapenos will get you every time."

"You tried to poison me," he finally accused in a strangled voice.

"No. This is local. And this is mild compared to some of the things I've eaten. Now. The food is hot - heat hot, not pepper hot. Give it a minute to get cool enough to eat. And this, this is a salad. Raw vegetables with a cream based sauce. Also not spicy hot. We eat a lot of this stuff. Somebody figured out it's good for you and tastes pretty good, too." She took a stool on the opposite side of the counter island and started eating.

Cautiously, Ares followed suit. His appetite returned when the food didn't bite back.

Ariana observed that it was obvious he needed to learn a few things. Forks seemed a foreign concept. She considered how many times she'd decided fingers were the best utensil and refrained from saying anything. Lunch over, she cleared the debris away, put the dishes in the dishwasher and started out of the room. A thought hit her as she was on her way out. She stopped in the doorway.

"Come with me."

"Why?"

"Because there's one more kind of room you need to know about." She introduced him to the bathroom from illustrating the concept of flushing to non-well produced water. Then she looked him up and down and suggested a bath.

"A what?"

"A bath. You stink."

"Why thank you."

"I'm serious. You are offensive in more than just your attitudes. Strip."

He got a lecherous grin on his face and did so. Instead of coming to grips with his hostess, he was left with a bathtub, running water and no clothes. "Hey!"

"I'll bring you something. Wash."

He managed to get the water turned off and not to scald himself as he settled into the tub. The warmth felt surprisingly good, although it made his hand throb where he had bruised it. Ariana returned in a few minutes with a washcloth, soap and shampoo.

"Gonna help me?"

"Only on the hair. Here." She handed him the washcloth and soap.

"What is this?"

"Soap. You rub it on the cloth, the cloth on you and then you rinse the suds off."

"You do it."

"I'm washing your hair." She emptied a cup of warm water over his head.

"Hey!"

"I could let you sleep in some. Now shut up and behave." She applied the shampoo to his probably never washed hair and worked it in. Four washings later, she decided he was acceptable. She pulled the plug on the tub and turned on the showerhead to get him rinsed off. The towel was easy to figure out. It felt good against his skin. Then came the problem of getting him into the only clothes she had on hand that would fit. She almost giggled. The god of war in t-shirt and blue jeans struck her as funny. Luckily the friend who had left the clothing preferred button fronts to zippers.

Ares came out of the bathroom and stood there for her inspection. The clothing was uncomfortably close cut, but soft enough to be comfortable anyway. His own footwear completed his wardrobe.

"Much better. Clean really works on you."

"Thank you. Now, my sword."

"Is in your tomb."

"Which is -"

"How would I know? It was your tomb."

"You don't know where the tomb of Ares is? It's a landmark. It's -"

"It's falling down wherever it is. There was light coming through the ceiling, remember?"

"Ever since those two -" Ares muttered.

"Ever since what?"

"Ever since Xena and Gabrielle's descendants blew it up."

"Smart kids. I don't know where it is. I'll have to do some research. You really want to be stuck back in there?"

"Stuck? I'm out. I want my sword."

"Well, I'm due to start work on my doctorate in anthropology - When!?" She darted out of the room, located her computer and consulted it as to just when her first classes were. "Tomorrow!" she exclaimed.

Ares had followed her. The computer was a mystery, but it seemed to have annoyed Ariana. He felt pleased with this.

She turned to face him. "According to the calendar, I'm due to start tomorrow. I get to go meet my advisor, a Dr. Jonas Binet. I'll see what I can look up when I'm not busy."

"What? This is important. I need my sword."

"Ares, you don't need your sword. There is no temple waiting for you. There are no worshippers out here waiting for the god of war to bestow his largesse on them. Your function is defunct."

His face darkened in anger. He turned on his heel and walked back into the room where he'd dressed and sat down. He could get through this. After all, she wasn't a warrior, what did she know. Just wait until he got his hands on his sword. There would be a need for a god of war then.

"You're wrong."

"No, I'm not," she told him from the doorway.

"I'll prove it."

"How?"

"I'll think of something."

Ariana left him to his own thoughts while she changed out of the dress Salmoneus had procured for her and into her own jeans and a comfortable flannel shirt. The outfit was basic, but she luxuriated in its familiarity. There was a crash of glass being broken. She went to see what it was. Ares was cradling his sword hand and swearing.

"Hurt yourself?"

"That clear stuff is sharp," he pointed out, nodding toward a broken window.

"Ah. Let me see." She took his hands in hers and investigated the slice he'd gotten. "That is deep. Come on, in the kitchen." Compared to their fight, her touch was gentle, avoiding doing any more hurt as much as possible. She cleaned the cut, applied a salve and bound his hand.

"Probably get a doctor to take a look at that tomorrow when we're in Las Cruces."

"Will that help?"

"It couldn't hurt."

The rest of the afternoon she spent cleaning out the stables while he watched or paced like a great cat. Dinner was quiet and Ares retired to bed without protest. He even swallowed the pills she gave him to keep the throbbing in his damaged hand from disturbing his rest.

She rousted him out of bed at sunrise. Ares eyed the wagon they would take to town with misgiving. There were no horses and he could sense no magic. The noise of the engine when she turned it on was disquieting. Given a choice between going and being left at the house on his own, he chose to go with her.

The trip down the mountain was invigorating. The road was smoother than any he had traveled before, although the turns in the road as it curved down the path of least resistance were wrenching. The road flattened out as they passed through what he thought was a city and out into a desert area. They passed over another mountain pass and into a larger city, finally stopping in a parking lot at New Mexico State University. Ariana grabbed a backpack out of the back of her jeep and headed into the Anthropology building without much thought for Ares.

On the third floor, Dr. Binet was just finishing setting up his office as he liked it. His first appointment was late, but he had discovered that this was to be expected in the southwestern United States. There was a knock at the door and a breathless Ariana looked around the edge. She stopped dead in the doorway. Her face blanked in reflex to being startled.

"Dr. - Binet?" she asked, giving his name the French intonation rather than the English one.

He smiled. "Yes. I'm Jonas Binet. And you are -?"

"Dracosi. Belinda Dracosi."

"You're late, Miss Dracosi."

"Sorry. I got tangled up in some things and didn't get out of Cloudcroft until about 7 this morning. It's a longer drive than I remembered," she ended lamely.

"Is something wrong?"

"Wrong? No." Nothing was wrong, she just couldn't take her eyes off the man who looked so much like Salmoneus; a modern dress Salmoneus with puzzled eyes behind his reading glasses. She smiled at him. This could be interesting. "And call me Ariana. It's a - a gift name I'm fond of."

He found himself smiling back. Outside, in the stairway, a deeply masculine voice could be heard cussing about something. Ariana closed the door behind her. There was time enough to deal with the petulant ex-god of war - later.


End file.
